


Do not go gentle into that good Dalek

by jlondonk



Series: The Whouffaldi Chronicles [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Based on the episode, Claras POV, Doctor POV, F/M, Into the Dalek, Pining, clara is distracted by his hands, danny is there but he's just a side character, her smile is doing things to him, ok, second installment in my whouffaldi chronicles, sorry folks, the doctor is already smitten with her, there will be no clara/danny, this is real love ok, this story will be endless, whouffaldi, why did I think this would be a good idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-09 21:30:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5556092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jlondonk/pseuds/jlondonk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Clara are working as a team again but the question remains...is he a good man? And more importantly, who is making Clara smile?</p><p>Based on the episode "Into the Dalek"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. May be this time, we'll make it

**Author's Note:**

> Second installment of my whouffaldi chronicles series. Danny is in it but there won't be any romantic shenanigans between him and Clara. Whouffaldi all the way y'all!;-)

Three weeks. It had been three bloody weeks and all she had done was sent him for coffee!!!

 

Clara wasn’t even mad anymore. To be honest, she hadn’t really been mad in the first place. 

 

He was trying, she knew he was. Didn’t mean she wouldn’t be slightly cross with him when he finally decided to show up again. And she didn’t doubt anymore that he would come back. 

 

But until then, life went on. Life, for Clara Oswald, when she wasn’t on board the TARDIS. 

 

Which meant, teaching.....and apparently attending staff meetings. God, she hated staff meetings. 

 

„Clara, you haven’t met Danny Pink yet, have you?!“ 

 

She turned and looked at the guy Mr. Armitage was pointing at. 

 

„New fella, Maths. Danny, Clara Oswald, English.“ 

 

„Hey.“, she said, smiling politely. 

 

„Hello. Pleased to meet you.“ 

 

„You want to watch yourself around him. Bit of a ladykiller but he always denies it.“ 

 

„I’m not a ladykiller.“ Clara chuckled. 

 

He didn’t look like a ladykiller. She’d met ladykillers. That strange species on that one planet the Doctor had taken her to once, weren’t they called ladykillers?! Very friendly creatures albeit with a terrible fashion sense. 

 

Mr. Armitage excused himself and left her and Danny standing in the staff room, an awkward silence building between them.

 

„So…“ She’d seen him earlier, hadn’t she? In the yard. 

 

„Was it you I saw outside? Doing the soldiery thing?“

 

„Yeah, probably. The Coal Hill cadets. Just a bit of fun.“ 

 

She smiled. „What, teaching them how to shoot people?“ 

 

His expression changes quickly then, which is strange because she hadn’t meant anything by it. 

 

„There’s a bit more to modern soldiering than just shooting people. I like to think there’s a moral dimension.“

 

„What you shoot people and cry about it afterwards?“ 

 

God, she was on fire today! The Doctor would have liked that one. 

 

But Danny, it seemed, did not. His face just sort of….crumbled.

 

„Oh….“

 

„Something wrong?“ 

 

She really wasn’t making a great first impression on him, was she. 

 

„Nothing. No, sorry, no, nothing. I just didn’t think they’d say anything.“

 

„Sorry?“ _Who said what now?_

 

„Have they told everyone?“

 

„No….as far as I know, nobody has told anybody anything. _What_ are you talking about?“

 

„…why did you just say the crying thing?“ 

 

„I was being funny.“ 

 

„Why?“

 

„Because….I just do that.“

 

„Why?“ 

 

What kind of question was that. 

 

„I… I don’t know.“ God, this was awkward. He was visibly uncomfortable. 

 

„Anyway, I erm, I’ve left some stuff in my classroom….see you.“ 

 

„Yeah, ok. See you.“

 

Good Lord. She let out a relieved breath and tried to puzzle out what had gone so wrong in that conversation. Danny seemed nice enough, so was it something she said? The soldier thing? 

 

She went to collect her notes and heard muttered chatting in the hallways, smiling to herself. 

 

The mention of 'Mr. Pink' made her pause though. 

 

_„He cried?“_

 

 _„Yeah, I’m telling you!_ **_In_ ** _class!“_

 

_„Never!“_

 

_„For real, he did! Must have had some kind of war flashback or something.“_

 

_„That’s so weird! I think he….“_

 

 

But the two girls had walked away from her and she never heard the end of that sentence. So that’s why he’d reacted so strangely. Oh dear, she’d really put her foot in it, hadn’t she. Clara sighed. This wouldn’t do. 

 

She walked down the corridor, until she’d reached the classroom at the end of the hallway. Inside, the chairs were already turned on top of the tables, no student in sight. And Danny Pink was banging his head on his desk, repeatedly.

 

„Any particular reason you’re doing that?“

 

She startled him and sees him freeze, gaze firmly fixed on the table surface in front of him.

 

„No…just,… general humiliation.“

 

„Yeah, about _that_ ….“ She leans in the doorway, observing him. 

 

„Listen, I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t know,…about the soldier business.“ 

 

He considers her, barely nods. Clara still feels bad. 

 

„Let me make it up to you! You’re going to the thing tonight, right? The leaving thing, for Cathy?“

 

He starts to think of an excuse, she can sense it, and interrupts him quickly. 

 

„I’ll give you a lift. Come on, it will be fun.“ 

 

„I was gonna do some….reading.“ 

 

„Take your book with you then, in case it gets boring.“  She's tapping her hand against the doorframe, a friendly smile on her face, already turning to leave.

 

„See you later!“ Danny didn’t answer but Clara didn’t really expect him to. 

 

He had that dazed look on his face and it reminded her off the Doctor three weeks ago. He’d looked so startled when she’d hugged him. 

 

It felt good to have him back. Her best friend. Or something like that. They hadn’t exactly established what kind of relationship they would have from here on out. He wasn’t the same man anymore. He wouldn’t constantly hug her or hold her hand and... part of her felt sad. 

 

This new guy wasn’t really the hugging sort. Or the hand holding sort, come to think of it. Although that was quite a shame, since he had such nice hands. 

 

And here we go again! 

 

Clara stopped dead in her tracks. 

 

_What is it with you and his hands woman! Good god!_

 

She blushes, smiling to herself and opens the door to the stationary cupboard to her left, nearly running into an outstretched arm with two coffee cups held towards her.

 

Clara stares right into the face of the man she’d just been thinking about.

 

„Where the hell have you been?“

 

 

——————————————

 

 

Uh oh. She was cross with him. Was she cross with him? She’d been smiling and then she’d stopped. He needed more data to proceed. 

 

„You sent me for coffee.“

 

„Three weeks ago. In Glasgow.“

 

Ah, that was it then. 

 

„Three weeks - that’s a long time.“ 

 

Had it been that long since he’d last seen her? Surely not! 

 

„In Glasgow - that’s dead in a ditch.“ 

 

„It’s not my fault, I got distracted.“

 

„By what?“ _You hugging me, your eyes, your smile, all your smiles actually, why do you have so many…._

 

„You can always find something. Come on!“

 

He turns to walk into the TARDIS and she follows him after only a moments hesitation. 

 

„Why were you smiling?“ 

 

„Was I? No, I wasn’t!“ She sounds almost guilty. Now why was that?

 

„Yes, you were, you were smiling at nothing. I’d almost say you were in love…“ and he freezes. 

 

Clara doesn’t notice, absently touching her lips that seemed to have betrayed her. 

 

Was she in love…. _was_ she?

Was there someone who made her heart beat faster? Someone who made her smile like that?

His frown deepened and he felt a surge of something dark and twisted in his gut but pushed it down. 

Down, down, down...

 

He wasn’t accustomed to this. She could do whatever she liked, he shouldn’t...….so what was it then? 

 

Clara. Clara, Clara, Clara, Clara.

 

„Yes?“ He looked up and found her staring. Oh. He’d said that out loud. Her name. Just her name. 5 times. **Great.**

 

He handed her the coffee and stepped around the console. 

 

„I need something from you. I need the truth.“

 

_Why were you smiling? Are you in love? With who? And why? There’s no one good enough. Why aren’t you drinking your coffee? I wasn’t sure how you’d take it, it might have too much sugar…._

 

„Okay, right“  She’s sitting down, pointing for him to join her on the stairs. 

 

„What is it, what’s….“ 

 

But before he can speak, she continues: „You’re scared.“

 

He stares at her. How did she do that? It was simply unfair. How could she read him so easily when he was still trying to figure out if she always got that little crease on her forehead when she frowned. 

 

„I’m terrified.“ Her gaze softened and his cheeks felt warm. 

 

„Of what?“ 

 

„The answer to my next question. Which must be honest and cold and considered, without kindness or restraint.“

 

He knew he’d set her up to fail from the very beginning. Clara Oswald without kindness.....if he'd ever see the day.

 

„Clara, be my pal, tell me…...am I a good man?“

 

She's quiet for the longest time. And he realizes, to his horror, that she bites her lip when she thinks deeply about something and a blush creeps up his neck all the way to his ears. He blinks. Mercifully, she finally speaks. 

 

„I don’t know.“ 

 

He sighs. It’s not a ‚no‘. It’s honest. It’s Clara without kindness. 

 

„Neither do I.“ He gets up quickly, turns back to the console and slams down the lever. 

 

„Hey, no offense, but I’ve got plans.“ 

 

And there it is again, that dark and twisted feeling, rearing it’s ugly head, crawling out, it’s long fingers grasping for him. 

 

 _With whom_ , he wants to ask but doesn't because even to himself it sounds ridiculous. She hadn’t seen him in three weeks, of course she had plans. But then….she hadn’t seen him in three weeks. Surely, she wouldn’t mind an adventure. But maybe, whoever had put that smile on her face, gave her a different kind of thrill. Something that made her heart beat faster.... 

 

He felt a tight frown form on his face and told her the only thing he could think of in that moment. The truth. 

 

„I need you.“

 

Clara simply nods and goes to stand opposite him, a crooked smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. 

 

„Right.“ she said. „Where are we going?“

 

Maybe her plans hadn’t been that important after all. Relief floods through him before he realizes how selfish he's being.

 

After all, they were grim clouds on the horizon. _Where are we going…._

 

„Into darkness.“

 


	2. What does that make me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara and the Doctor reflect on a few things as their adventure begins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long wait! Hope you'll all like this chapter!

“A good Dalek?” 

 

“There’s no such thing.” 

 

She frowned at him, her coffee cup held tightly in her hand. 

 

“”That’s a bit inflexible.” 

 

He had that look, that cross look, that he used quite a lot now. His eyebrows got all crunched up. If she was being honest with herself, she thought it was quite funny. He looked so serious. But then, hey, serious worked quite well with the new outfit and all, didn’t it? He looked like a magician. A magician who was very, very cross. _Stop it, Clara, you can’t giggle now._  

 

“Not like you.” 

 

No, not like him. The Doctor, the Doctor that she _knew_ , wasn’t intolerant. He wasn’t cruel or hard-hearted. He wasn’t….he wasn’t…

 

“I’d almost say prejudiced.” 

 

A series of expressions passes over his features, some of them she can’t quite place and it infuriates her. She was supposed to know him better then anyone in the universe, isn’t that what Madam Vastra said? But Clara was still getting acquainted with this new face. She’d get the hang of it. It was the eyebrows, most of the time. They just threw her off.

 

The heaviest of sighs falling from his lips.

 

„Do I pay you? I should give you a raise.” 

 

She smiled to herself.  _There you are_. 

 

Sometimes it takes her a moment to find him. Or to put it plainly, sometimes it takes him a moment to come back. 

 

„You’re not my boss. You’re one of my hobbies.“

 

And he almost smirks at her, she could see it, in the corner of his mouth, the little tilt. It made her pause. What was that heavy burden on his shoulders? She’d seen it before, when he’d still worn the bow tie and the constant smile, but it had never been this obvious. Like he was remembering all the things he’d done wrong. May be he was. He used to do that, occasionally. Remember all the mistakes he’d made, instead of seeing all the good he’d done, all the people he’d saved. Only seeing grief and darkness when there was no one there to show him light. May be it was torturing him. May be….may be, she could, perhaps, carry some of that burden for him, only for a little while, to lighten his load. 

 

„Come on.“

 

He was striding towards the door now and she hurried to follow him. They left the TARDIS and entered what looked like a laboratory with a considerable amount of equipment and heavy machinery. There were 2 people, all dressed in black gear, talking avidly in the corner. They turned when they heard them approach and one of them said: „That was quick.“ 

 

„This is gun girl. She’s got a gun and she’s a girl. And this is a sort of boss one. Are you the same ones as before?“

 

„Yes!“ 

 

Clara smiled. She recognized that look of surprise on their faces. It had probably only been 2 minutes since they last saw him. She waved at them in greeting. 

 

„I think he’s probably her uncle but I may have made that up to pass the time while they were talking. This is Clara, not my assistant, some other word. She’s my….“

 

But he falters and his steps slow down…. 

 

_Clara I’m not your boyfriend_

 

_I never thought you were_

 

_I never said it was your mistake_

 

 

„I’m his carer.“, she blurts out. 

 

Because this wasn’t good. Him being quiet was never good. She liked the talking, the rambling, even when he was being insulting. He’d get a scolding for it later but now, right now, he had faltered because he hadn’t known _what_ to call her. Not for the first time she wondered, what she was to him. She’d been so sure with the other one. But with him, it was difficult. He was so closed off, so far removed from her yet. How could she help him, how could she tell if he was a good man, when she didn’t know herself. 

 

„Yes, my carer….“ He gave her a sideways glance. „She cares so I don’t have to.“

 

And usually, she would laugh at a comment like that, except….except now, it didn’t seem all that funny. Was this how he saw her? Was this her role? The conscience of the Doctor...because that might be a burden to heavy to carry - even for her. 

 

They entered another room now, a chamber and Claras thoughts came to an abrupt halt. There it was. The Dalek, bound in chains and very much battered looking.

 

 **„Doctor?“** That voice. That awful voice. 

 

„Hello again.“ He sounded so casual. Like it was any other old day for him. But of course, that wasn’t quite true. 

 

 **„Will you….help me….?“** Clara couldn’t fathom what must be going on inside his head. A Dalek, asking for his help.

 

„Will you?“ She asks and he looks at her. 

 

„A Dalek so damaged it’s turned good. Morality as malfunction….how do I resist?“ 

 

But he doesn’t smile, he doesn’t even blink and it occurs to Clara, that he might be genuinely in need of an answer. If he was, she didn’t feel capable of providing him with one. 

 

**„Daleks must die. Daleks must die.“**

 

She wanted to help. She wanted to be useful, to contribute, somehow. But his gaze on her was so intense, so full of unanswered questions, she wasn’t able to meet it any longer. Clara swallowed. 

 

„So what do we do with a moral Dalek then?“

 

„Get into it’s head.“ His voice was quieter then before.  

 

„Hm, of course….how do you get into a Daleks head?“ 

 

„That wasn’t a metaphor.“ And once it clicked, she uncrossed her arms and turned to stare at him. He’d somehow gravitated right next to her and his face was so close, she could see the blue light of the wires that kept the Dalek in place, reflected in his eyes. 

 

„Right.“

 

Right. _Into darkness_ ….made much more sense now.

 

 

—————————————————

 

 

She knew a great deal about him, that much was evident. Her facial expressions,… they confused him. People shouldn’t have more then one smile and here she was, having hundreds. It was distracting. And don’t even get him started on the eyes. 

 

At the moment, she was concentrating very hard on not being Lasagne. He’d rarely seen someone so focused on breathing steadily but Clara rarely did things by halves. At least, he didn’t think so. There were still gaps in his memory, some larger then others. 

 

Gaps where all he could recall was her presence, but not her exact words. Moments, when he remembered talking to someone, holding someones hand,…it must have been her. He would ask her sooner or later, he really would, but….

 

He wasn’t sure if he was ready to hear all the answers. 

 

Clara Oswald. There were things he did recall. She was bossy, adventurous, kind to a fault and…loyal.

 

Is that why she was still here? Loyalty. 

 

Would she see sense one day? So far she seemed chipper enough, happy to come along with him, a stranger (to her) still, essentially. That’s what she must be thinking. A stranger. And yet… 

 

She’d been with him for a while, the other him. Periods of her life, spent traveling, through time and space. She had known him….well.

And she had stayed. She had stayed even when he’d sent her away, even he’d left her at her home, intend on dying by himself. She had clung onto the TARDIS, like it had been a lifeline. That’s one bit he remembers vividly. Clara, her eyes huge, etched into his memory, her skin pale, hanging onto the door with a death grip. _„I’ve been to space…“_

 

It had been so long since he’d seen her. 300 years of defending the town called Christmas. Children smiling. Drawings on the wall, cracks that slithered through… There was more, there was always more, but it was a jumbled mess inside his head and he needed time to sort through it. He always needed more time. 

 

She had a life now. A job, her family. And still, here she was, sitting opposite him in this small tank, trying her hardest to breathe evenly because he had asked her to be here. Only there second adventure together and they went into a  _Dalek_. The most dangerous, abhorrent creature. He had brought her here. 

 

„We made it. Nobody popped.“ 

 

He could hear Clara let out the last of her breath and sees a small, relieved smile tug at the corners of her mouth. 

 

„I can’t believe this.“ She’s looking around now, awestruck at what unfolds before her eyes, almost smiling, and something inside him twists and turns painfully. 

 

The other one wouldn’t have done that. He’d taken her to theme parks and the rings of Akhaten, not on trips into the core of a monster so vile and cold-blooded that it made him sick to think about it. But he needed her. For some reason he didn’t want to admit to himself yet, he needed her. The school teacher. The companion. The first face this face saw. Clara. 

 

He’d ripped her out of her world, where she’d been safe and placed her right into the mouth of the lion....next to himself. What kind of man did that make him? A selfish one. Ah, but he knew that already.  

 

He had brought her here. 

 

„No, neither can I.“

 


	3. Inside we'll see what we've become

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're inside the Dalek and Clara can't help but think how beautiful it looks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, ok, I'm sorry this took me so long to update. The next chapter will be up much quicker, promise! thanks for sticking with me!

This was incredible. She should be scared, she _knew_ she should be scared, the sensible, logical part of her brain was telling her this but....this was incredible. 

They were inside a Dalek! She was standing _inside_ a Dalek. 

 

„It’s amazing.“ 

 

Clara couldn’t believe it. It was like they were looking down from an impossibly tall building, lights, cables, circuits, everything leading down to come together in the centre….far, far below them.

 

„It’s huge.“ 

 

„No, Ross. We’re tiny.“ 

 

He was quiet, just staring down into the belly of the beast. Now, that they were inside this creatures head, she wondered what it looked like in his. 

 

„So how big is it? The living part - compared to us, right now?“

 

He’d done that thing with his coat again, showing off the red lining. She noticed a trend there. Was that the new "fixing his bow tie"...

 

„You see all those cables?“

 

„Yeah?“

 

„They’re not all cables.“ 

 

He lifts his hands like a magician and looks at her and Clara starts giggling, despite herself. Great, they were inside a Dalek, on a probably more then just plain dangerous mission and he was making her laugh…

 

But all of a sudden the atmosphere changes completely. Some of the cables begin to slink and slither….

 

„Does it know we’re here?“

 

Journey is the one who answers, gun drawn, ready to defend or attack.

 

„It’s what invited us in.“

 

The Doctor was walking towards the panels now, close to the ledge, reaching out as if to touch the light bars but hesitating.  

 

„Now this is the cortex vault, a supplementary electronic brain. Memory banks, but more than that. This is what keeps the Dalek….’pure’.“

 

How are Daleks pure, Clara thinks, but Gretchen is the one who actually says it out loud. 

 

„Dalek mutants are born hating. This is what stokes the fire. Extinguishes even the tiniest glimmer of kindness or compassion. Imagine the worst possible thing in the universe and then don’t bother - because you’re looking at it right now. Evil refined as engineering.“

 

He sounded…strange. She couldn’t place it, somehow his voice didn’t fit to what he was saying. He simply sounded…off. Suddenly, Clara felt like she was looking at a stranger and chills ran down her spine.

 

_Extinguishes even the tiniest glimmer of kindness…_

 

„ **Doctor**.“ 

 

That voice, oh that voice. It trembled through every surface, making the panels around them light up. But it seemed to do the trick. The Doctor looked around, his face bright with excitement. 

 

„Oh, hello, Rusty. You don’t mind if I call you Rusty? We’re going to need to get down there with you. Medical examination, and all that.“

 

Now that just sounded creepy. And they had to climb? Oh for the love of…

 

„How close to we have to get?“, Journey asked.

 

„Well, you know were never gonna insert a thermometer from up here.“

 

Yeah alright, that was funny. He was being sarcastic. She could deal with sarcastic. 

 

Clara looked a little closer at the light panels around her. Some of them were bright, almost blindingly so, while others remained pitch black. Did that mean something? She heard a loud noise and whirled around.

 

„No, no, no, no, stop! Stop you idiot, no!“ But it was too late, they had already fired their pistols, slamming a peg into the sheer wall.

 

„We need a way down there, the only way is - “

 

„This is a Dalek, _not a machine_! “ 

 

Clara would remember that sentence, she would remember it for a very, very long time. It was one of those things, she would hear him say and she would acknowledge it and then store it in the far away corners of her brain, to be looked at later. 

 

„It is a perfect analogue of a living being - and you just hurt it. So what’s going to happen now???“

 

God, he was angry. _So_ angry, every fibre of his being…

 

Buzzing…ringing, in her ears. _Oh_ ….oh no…

 

„Oh God.“

 

„What? What is it?“ 

 

This wasn’t good. This really wasn’t good. 

 

„Antibodies?“ Surely, he had a plan. He must have a plan, he always had one. Should they run? 

 

„Dalek antibodies.“ 

 

The lights around them started flickering and then, suddenly, it was almost completely dark. From the shadows, a cloud of metallic golden orbs started to appear, their droning noise ringing in Claras ears. 

 

„Nobody move. Any attempt to help him, or attack those things, will identify you as a secondary source of infection. Stay still!“ 

 

She felt herself shake, her body betraying her at the most inconvenient time. All of a sudden a hand pushed her back, slowly, steadily. The Doctor was in front of her, shielding her from view, his hand stretched out backward to keep her in place, the other one fiddling with his screwdriver. 

 

One of the orbs was hovering over Ross now, scanning him from head to toe. 

 

„But the Dalek wants us in here. Why’s it attacking us?“, she whispered.

 

„Can you control your antibodies?“

 

Fair point. She had trouble controlling her left hand at the moment much less her antibodies. 

 

„Ross. Stay calm. We’re going to get you out of this.“

 

Oh, the never ending optimism of some people, Clara thought, as Journey tried to regain control of the situation. 

 

„Can you?“, she breathed and he gave her a look. It happened to quickly for her to analyze. He unscrews the base of his screwdriver and pops something into the palm of his hand. 

 

„Ross, swallow that!“ He said, throwing it over to him. 

 

„What is it?“ 

 

„Trust me.“ 

 

And he does, she can see it in his eyes, tossing the little silver thing into this mouth, swallowing. Clara, despite this gesture, feels no hope for him in that moment. 

 

„Now what?“ 

 

But the Doctor is fumbling with his screwdriver, not even looking at Ross, who is searching for his eyes, scared, so clearly scared.  

 

He’s dying, Clara thinks. He’s going to die.

 

And sure enough, the antibodies stab a ray of light on Ross and he explodes into particles, a muffled scream the last thing falling from his lips before they disintegrate. It happens so quickly, that she’s not sure that it was real at all.  

 

„ROSS!“

 

„Oh my god. What’s it doing?“

 

He was still staring at his damn screwdriver. 

 

„The hoovering.“

 

Clara felt at a loss. He hadn’t even seen him die. Did he care…at all?

His arm was blocking her again, shielding her and she wondered if he was doing it unconsciously. If he was even aware of it. 

How could he let Ross die so easily, but still make sure to place her out of the firing line? What was his plan?

 

The antibody, that had now sucked up all that remained of Ross, turned a dark red and the Doctors screwdriver started beeping. 

 

„What did you give him?“

 

„Oh, just a spare battery. But I can track the radiation signature - I need to know where they dump the bodies.“

 

„I thought you were _saving_ him.“

 

„He was dead already - I was saving us!“ 

 

 

_Tell me Clara, am I a good man?_

 

 

And then they were running, running, running….the swivel and drone of the antibodies always close behind them. 

 

———————————————

 

He loved slides! Why weren’t they doing this more often?! Sure, not the being followed by murderous orbs who were trying to split them into tiny fragments part, _that_ they could leave out. Or the landing in goo part. People goo. 

 

And why was gun girl always shouting at him? What had he said this time? He didn’t always listen to what came out of his mouth. Did she not realize where they were? This was a good thing! 

 

„There is nothing good about that!!“ 

 

„Nothing is alive in here - so logically this has to be the weakest spot in the Dalek’s internal security. Nobody guards the dead.“

 

They should know this by now. Hadn’t he explained properly?

 

„Mortuaries and larder - alway the easiest to break out of.“ 

 

Surely Clara remembered that! After all, it had only been a couple of weeks since they’d broken out of a larder. He looked around for her and saw her inspecting her ruined clothes, carefully moving about the slimy pool. 

 

She was safe. Or as safe as you could be inside a Dalek. The antibodies had been a close call. Gun girl had been stupid. He wouldn’t let that happen again.  

 

But now, they needed a way out. Clara was talking to the others, probably comforting them or some other nonsense he wasn’t very good at. She seemed to have a way with people. May be it was her voice. Or her tiny figure, which made her seem non-threatening. He had felt an urge to place himself in front of her, that felt entirely too overwhelming to be sensible. 

 

He looked around. Ah…. there we are.

 

„Bolt hole!“ Quick sonic and it should….yes, lovely. 

 

„Bolt hole. Actually a hole for a bolt. Does nobody get that?“ 

 

Oh come on people, that was hilarious. He almost felt the urge to crack a smile. But gun girl was still glowering at him and may be they ought to get on with things. 

 

Clara wiggled over to him, the goo making her movements sluggish and slow. He held out his hand to her on impulse. 

Strange, these impulses he had around her. He would need to work on those. 

 

„Watch it, decontamination tubes are hot.“ 

 

He climbed in first, the tunnel wide enough to accommodate them but it was still a tight fit and awkward to move forward on all fours. He wondered if she was claustrophobic but couldn’t really imagine that to be the case. 

 

„Are you alright back there? It’s a bit narrow, isn’t it?“ 

 

„Any remarks about my hips will not be appreciated.“

 

Her hips, _please_ , she was tiny. You could probably fit two of her in here. But of course, that’s not what he said. He couldn’t say that, she’d get the wrong idea. He couldn’t say that, because it sounded like a compliment. And if he started to say what he really thought, it would soon spiral out of control. Better not. 

 

„Your hips are fine. You’re built like man.“ 

 

Even he cringed when the words left his lips. 

 

Onwards they went, through the narrow tube and he could barely see anything, some kind of fog clouding their vision. Eventually it leveled out and the Doctor climbed out onto steady ground, a low buzzing noise ringing around them. 

 

„What’s that noise? Are you wearing a Geiger counter?“

 

He helped Clara out of the bolt hole and immidiately questioned his impulses again. Why did he feel the need to reach out for her all the time? She was perfectly capable of climbing out of that thing herself, thank you very much. She wasn’t an invalid. He drew back his hand quickly.

 

„Standard battle equipment. That’s just low level radiation.“

 

„But stronger down her for some reason.“

 

Could that be it? Could that actually be the root of the problem?

 

„I’ve got it. I know what’s wrong with Rusty.“ 

 

Beside him, he felt Clara tense up.

 

„Okay, that’s good…..is that good?“

 

„Well you know how I said this was the most dangerous place in the universe? I was wrong. It’s way more dangerous than that.“

 


	4. Hope is a treacherous thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clara has a hard time controlling her emotions.

She was staring upwards, listening to the voice and he was staring at her, lost in his thoughts. 

 

 Why had she come so willingly…. 

 

„Perhaps we should get out while we can? Why should we trust a Dalek? Why would it change?“

 

„Good question.“, the Doctor replied and it was, wasn’t it? Very good question. 

 

Clara was looking at him now, her expression puzzled. 

 

„What changed you?“, he asked into the abyss.

 

She frowned and he hadn’t seen that particular frown before. It was new. He tried to memorize it but her eyes were distracting him. 

 

„ **I saw beauty.** “

 

Funny, he thought, that those words should throw him so completely of his course. He had been focused. He thought he had figured out what was going on. He was gonna do a clever thing any minute now but…his mind had just gone on standby. 

 

For a moment, it was just her, nothing but her. Clara, in a victorian red dress, her hand in his, a small smile on her lips. Clara, laughing, thrillingly loud, next to him. Clara, swearing that she was ok, her hair wet from the water dripping from the ceiling of the submarine. So many pictures of her, in his mind. It usually didn’t happen like this. Memories came back steadily, slowly, not like this tidal wave. Not this onslaught of beauty. 

 

„What….you saw what?“

 

„ **In the silence and the cold, I saw worlds burning.** “

 

He couldn’t talk yet, her face was still so close. Gun girl was saying something.

 

„ **I saw more.** “

 

„What?“

 

_Stop it! Stop it now! This cannot happen now! FOCUS!_

 

He pulled himself together with difficulty, pushing himself away from Clara, to the centre of the room. „What did you see?“

 

„ **The birth of a star.** “

 

„Stars get born every day. You’ve seen a million stars born, so what?“

 

And now her face was gone, forcibly removed from his mind with an instant effect that left him feeling numb and cold. It was replaced by other images. Images he could never forget, as hard as he had tried. And boy, had he tried. 

 

„ **Daleks have destroyed a million stars.** “

 

„Oh, millions and millions. Trust me, I take count.“

 

Destruction, pain, death. Daleks never left anything in their wake but that. 

 

„ **And yet new stars are born.** “

 

„Every time.“

 

„ **Resistance is futile.** “

 

„Resistance to what?“

 

„ **Life returns. Life prevails. Resistance is futile.** “

 

„So you saw a star born and you learned something? Oh Dalek, do not be lying to me.“

 

Hope was a treacherous thing. A downright dangerous thing in situations like these. It could rip you open from the inside with its bare teeth and leave you exposed and injured and he would not risk _her_ life for this small glimmer kindling in his chest. 

 

Because Daleks were _pure_ evil. It’s all he knew. It’s ALL he knew for sure about those creatures. 

 

He needed more information. He needed to be certain because radiation was tricky.

 

„Come on.“

 

They followed Gretchen and Journey into the Trionic power cells, where glowing cables and pipes spread out of a huge, circular area in the centre. The Doctor felt a shiver run down his spin. 

 

„We’re at the heart of the Dalek.“

 

Something took hold of him then, like a shadow. His fingers twitched with the sudden urge to reach for her hand. 

 

„It’s incredible.“

 

And he whipped his head around to stare at her in wonder. Clara was gazing upward, a look of utter astonishment written all over her face. Why wasn’t she frightened? She had been earlier, he knew that much. Was it so soon forgotten? 

 

She was impossible….oh no, not that again….he’d been done with that, the whole impossible girl aria. He knew who she was, what she was, plain old Clara Oswald.

 

Plain. Old. Clara. Oswald. 

 

Beside him. 

 

His fingers twitched again and he’d had enough. This couldn’t keep happening. He was a Timelord for heavens sake, he should be in control of his extremities. 

 

Bursts of gas and sparks were venting around them and he felt the temperature rise. 

 

„Looks like it’s about to blow!“ Gun girl was right. Bolts of electricity were buzzing all around them, bursting through. 

 

„Good.“

 

„How is that good?“

 

„I like a bit of pressure.“ 

 

He could see Clara smirking in response to his words and no, he was not blushing, it was the lighting in here, terrible really. 

 

Sonic, he needed his sonic screwdriver. 

 

„Rusty, can you hear me?“

 

„ **Doctor?** “ 

 

„We’ve found the damage. I’m sealing up the breach….in your power cell…“

 

The gap was closing, slowly, steam emerging continuously until it was completely sealed. 

 

„No more radiation poisoning. Good as knew…..there, job done.“

 

„Is that it? Just like that?“, Clara asked.

 

„An anti-climax once in a while is good for my hearts.“

 

Now she outright beamed at him, shaking her head slightly. He was not really sure what to do about that. Or that funny feeling in his chest. 

 

Take care of the task at hand, yes, that’s what he’d do. 

 

„Rusty? How do you feel?“

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.“Rusty?“ 

.

.

.

„Rusty?“

 

This was the thing about hope. It was a traitorous thing….

 

„ **The malfunction is corrected.** “

 

Above them, throughout the Dalek, new lights were coming on.

 

„What’s happened? It’s like it’s waking up.“ Gun girl was whirling around, firearm in hand, ready to attack.

 

„Rusty? Come on, talk to me. What’s going on?“

 

„ **The malfunction is corrected. All systems are functioning.** “ 

 

He didn’t understand. He hadn’t done anything to cause that kind of reaction. He’d only sealed the gap, this wasn’t - 

 

„ **Weapons charged.** “

 

„ _What_? No. NO!!!“

 

But it was too late. He can hear it, over the radio headset, as gun girl frantically enquires about what is happening. He hears the explosions, the screams, hears the shots but above all else, as if it was coming from inside his own head, he hears one thing.

 

„ **Exterminate!** “

 

—————————

 

 

Ok, so that hadn’t gone exactly to plan! In fact, it had probably gone as badly as humanly possible. Bugger!

 

„Doctor! What happened?“ 

 

He was frozen, in the middle of the room, so Clara grabbed his hand on instinct. She thought for a second that she saw him flinch but then he looked at her and his eyes changed. He crossed his arms and looked a bit like a petulant small boy. 

 

„You see?“, he said, almost defeated, almost sad. Almost.

 

„See what?“ 

 

„Daleks don’t turn good.“ And his lips were curving up into something that really wasn't smile at all, more of a grimace.

 

„It was just radiation….effecting it’s brain chemistry….nothing more than that.“ 

 

He snorted. „No _miracle_.“ 

 

And she has to take a step back to keep it together, to keep herself in check because what she wants to do, right now, is punch him.

 

Journey is stepping between them now and Clara is glad for it. She could feel her outrage, feel her anger, so palpable like it was her own. 

 

„Let me get this straight. We had a good Dalek and we made it bad again. That’s all we’ve done?“

 

„There was never a good Dalek. There was a broken Dalek and we repaired it!“

 

May be she could climb over Journey to punch him. Quite frankly, it didn't sound like the worst plan she ever had. 

 

„You were _supposed_ to help us!“

 

„I gave it a shot, it didn’t work out. It’s a Dalek, what did you expect!“ 

 

Yeah, alright, she would climb over her, screw it, she would climb on top of her and then launch herself onto the Doctor and pummel him with her bare hands. But before Clara was able to put her plan into action, Journey was turning away and taking a hold of Gretchen to retreat into the corner of the room. For a moment, it was just them. 

 

She was trembling with rage. He had asked her to come here! He had wanted her here and like a tool, she’d gone, of course, she’d gone because she never said no, did she, not to him. Not when he „needed her“. And now they would die, inside this Dalek and he didn’t even blink. He didn’t even care!!!!  

 

„What’s that look for?“

 

She couldn’t help herself.

 

„That’s the look you get when I’m about to slap you!“

 

And she did slap him - hard!

 

He stumbled backwards, holding his right cheek. „Clara!“ 

 

The palm of her hand was burning, a tingling running up her arm. God, she couldn't remember the last time she'd been this angry.

 

„We’re gonna die in here….and there was a little bit of you that’s pleased.“ She tried breathing steadily but it was difficult. 

 

„The Daleks are evil after all, everything makes sense, the Doctor is right!“

 

He stepped forward, bringing his face close to hers. She could see the red mark her hand had left on his cheek. 

 

„Daleks _are_ evil - irreversibly! That’s what we just learned!!!“ 

 

Clara took another step forward and her nose almost touched his. She didn’t even flinch. 

 

„No Doctor. That is _not_ what we just learned!!!“ 

 

She saw his eyebrows draw together in a frown. His eyes were staring into hers and Clara only now realized the intensity between them. They were close, very close. And they were both furious. 

 

She stepped away, hurriedly, because she needed to do something other then be inches away from his face while it felt like he was staring into her very soul with those eyes of his.

 

„One question!“ 

 

Journey was pulling grenades from her belt, almost frantic now. „No time!“

 

But Clara was undeterred. This would not be the end. She wouldn’t let it be. 

 

„Why did we come here today? What was the point?“ She turned back to him and he was still looking at her, deeply perplexed. 

 

„You thought there was a good Dalek. What difference would one good Dalek make?“

 

He slowly stepped over the wires, towards her. 

 

„All the difference in the world. But it’s impossible.“ 

 

Impossible. That word. She was sick of it. 

 

„Is that a fact?“, she said and she went to him now and looked into his eyes. „Is that really what we learned today?“

 

He didn’t answer, simply stared at her. „Think about it!“, Clara said and grabbed the labels of his coat. „Is that what we learned?“

 

It takes him a while, much longer then it usually does. But Clara waits. Because he must see it, eventually. He lifts his head and his gaze clears up. It's an expression she’s not used to, the Doctor, out of his depth. 

 

But then his eyes brighten and they are so very, very blue. There’s a look of wonder on his face…

 

„Clara Oswald, do I really not pay you?“ And she wants to weep with the relief. 

 

„You couldn’t afford me.“ He steps forward and his smile is bright. 

 

Oh my Doctor, there you are.

 

————————

 

 

„Whatever you’re going to do, don’t do it!“ 

 

His cheek was still stinging from the impact of her tiny hand. She was strong, he should have known.  

 

„The Dalek must not be destroyed. We can do better.“

 

„Are you out of your mind?“ 

 

Good question. Possibly. Very much in the realm of possibilities. 

 

„I’m inside a Dalek. I’m standing where I’ve never been - we can _not_ waste this chance, it won’t come again.“

 

„What chance??? I have my orders!“

 

„Soldiers take orders!“

 

„I _am_ a soldier!“

 

„A Dalek is a better soldier then you will ever be, you can’t win this way!“

 

She pauses, he can see it. She’s uncertain, she doesn’t want this. She has her orders but Clara is right, she is always, always right. And finally, gun girl let’s go of the grenade in her hand and puts it back in her belt, defeated. 

 

„Ahh! So what do we do?“

 

He looks around and catches her gaze, sees her release a breath and feels the world around him slow down. 

 

„Something better."

 


	5. Why so quiet?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final showdown inside the Dalek. The Doctor is confronted with his inner workings and doesn't quite know what to do. Clara isn't the only one who has a hard time figuring him out...

„It _is_ a raging lunatic, it’s a Dalek.“ Journey shouted. 

 

„But for a moment it wasn’t!“ 

 

Didn’t they understand?! Ugh, soldiers! May be Clara should slap them as well. 

 

„The radiation allowed it to expand its consciousness, to consider terms of reference. It became _good_. That means a good Dalek is possible - _that’s_ what we learned today! Am I right, teach?“

 

„Top of the class!“ Clara shouted, without missing a beat.

 

She was beaming at him, her smile lighting up the air around them. Gun girl on the other hand, still wasn’t convinced. 

 

„But now it’s back to what it was.“

 

„Yeah but what it saw, what it felt….“ He turns, Claras gaze on him, his breath getting stuck in his throat. 

 

„It’s still there.“ 

 

„Yeah, I’m not exactly seeing that.“ 

 

He sighed, frustrated. „Not here! _There_!“, he answered, pointing upwards to the cortex vault. 

 

„The evil engineering?“

 

„Every memory, recorded. Some of them suppressed, but all still intact.“ 

 

And when he said those words, he could have sworn that Clara was staring a hole in the back of his head. This seemed important somehow. He turned to her. 

 

„You need to show the Dalek that star being born again. Recreate that moment.“

 

„Me?“ Her surprise was evident.  

 

_Of course you, Clara. Always you. Who else could do it?!_

 

„Yes, you, good idea. Get up there and find that moment and reawaken it.“

 

„How am I supposed to do that?“

 

He smiled at her and at how impossible big her eyes looked in that moment. 

 

„Haven’t the foggiest. Do a clever thing.“ This was brilliant! He was twirling around the room, the energy back in his limps, buzzing through him.

 

„And when you’ve done it, the Dalek will be suggestible to new ideas. And I will show it something that will change its mind forever!“

 

„What?“ Gun girl asked. 

 

„Not a clue.“ He was laughing, he was enjoying himself because this, oh, this was a good one. 

 

„This is crazy! There’s no way we can get back to the top in time!“

 

Oh, yes, he hadn’t thought of that. But the girl, the other one, was talking now, pointing her gun upwards. 

 

„No, Gretchen! It’ll bring the anti-bodies down on us.“

 

But Gretchen was staring at Clara, intently. 

 

„Tell me the truth. Is he mad or is he right?“

 

Well, this went a bit far, didn’t it... he was standing right next to her after all. Wasn’t this one of those things that was considered rude, talking about someone _in front of them._ Surely Clara would have the correct response. 

 

But she was…hesitating. Oh. 

 

„I’ve come this far, probably going to die anyway….is he mad or is he right?“

 

And still, Clara was quiet. Why was she so quiet? It unnerved him. It was unnerving…silence from Clara Oswald.  She always had an opinion, on everything, especially things concerning him. Clara glanced at him, the briefest moment and then…

 

„Hand on my heart…“ she said and he found that he was waiting as expectantly as Gretchen was. 

 

„Most days he’s both.“ He could live with that. 

 

She had turned to him now, decision clear in her gaze. 

 

„Gretchen Alison Carlisle. Do something good and name it after me.“

 

What he said next, came to him so naturally. „I will do something amazing. I promise.“

 

Rule number one….the Doctor lies. He can sense Claras eyes on him but tries to ignore her gaze as Gretchen fires her gun and the grappler bolt attaches itself into the ledge floor. He tries to ignore it as the hum of the approaching antibodies grows louder and louder. He tries to ignore it until her and Journey are safely attached to the rope and he can hear her shout instructions to Clara. 

 

„Grab hold of the rope. Don’t look down!“

 

Only then, does he turn and as he walks away, all he is left with is the feeling of Claras eyes on him and Gretchens scream, ringing loudly in his ears. 

 

————————

 

 

Ok, she was not wearing the right shoes for this. Crawling through the gap between the circuit boards Clara wondered once again how she always managed to get herself into situations like the one she was currently in. „Do something clever, sure, easiest thing in the world.“, she gruntled to herself.

 

The tunnel is getting more narrow now and she has to squeeze through but there, right in front of her…

 

„I’m in the cortex!“  

 

Admittedly, this was quite exciting! She could hear shouting, could hear explosions. And she was stuck inside a Dalek. Talk about surreal. Suddenly, a huge energy charge passes through the cortex vault. She can hear Journeys voice, shouting in the distance, sounding worried. 

 

„I’m alright!“

 

„You got the first of the lights on!“

 

Oh well, of course. Electrical pathways linking up memories. She was working the brain of the Dalek. This was brilliant. She’s crawling towards the next light bar, continuing her journey until there’s only one left. It’s tricky to get to and she can hear Journey opening fire and the buzz of the antibodies. She'd better get a move on. 

 

A sudden sharp pain makes her curse. She looks down on herself and sees a wire sticking into the side of her hip, her shirt sliced open at the bottom seem. Clara wiggles around quickly and moves forward. Finally, she can reach the last light switch and flips it. She can see all the lights coming back on and sighs in relief. 

 

„CLARA! You did it! It’s rebooting. The antibodies have reset!“

 

She has to laugh. Well then, thank god that worked. Let’s hope the Doctor could make this thing remember the birth of a star. 

 

 

—————————

 

 

This was probably one of his more insane ideas. He held the two cables steadily in his hands, feeling the energy surging through him. Here we go then, all or nothing. 

 

„Let me show you the truth Rusty. I’ve opened your mind and now I’m coming in. I’m a part of you. My mind is in your mind.“ 

 

And for a heartbeat, everything stops. 

 

„ **I see your mind, Doctor. I see your universe!** “

 

„And isn’t the universe beautiful?“ 

 

Images were flooding through his mind. Galaxies, stars and far away planets.

 

„ **I see beauty.** “

 

„Yes, that’s good. Hold on to that!“

 

„ **I see endless, devine perfection.** “

 

„Make it a part of you. Remember how you feel right now!“ If only Clara could see this. An image of her smile creeps into his vision unannounced and sudden. 

 

„ **I see into your soul, Doctor.** **I see…. _her_**.“

 

„ _Her?_ “

 

„ **Your companion. I see her beauty. I see divinity…** **I…see… your hatred!!** “

 

_I am not a Dalek, I am human! Please! I am not a Dalek...._

_I'm Oswin Oswald, I am not a Dalek...._

 

The cables in his hands started shaking. 

 

„….hatred!“

 

„ **I see your hatred of the Daleks and it is good.** “

 

„No, you must have seen more - there must be more then that! Please!

 

„ **Death to the Daleks! Death to the Daleks! Death to the Daleks!** “

 

„No! No, there’s more then that. There must be more then that! _Please_!“

 

But it was too late. 

 

„ **Daleks are evil. Daleks must be exterminated! Exterminate! Exterminate!** “ 

 

He had changed nothing. He had done nothing. Hatred. That’s all the Dalek had seen. Hatred. Was that all he could bring to this world? Was that his legacy? 

A pretty face in between his jumbled thoughts and the rest was taken up by…by what? War? 

 

And just like that, it was over. And here he still was, alone, with the last remaining Dalek on this ship. 

 

**„The Daleks are exterminated.“**

 

„Of course they are….that’s what you do, isn’t it.“ 

 

He wasn’t sure anymore if he was talking to the Dalek or himself. 

 

————————

 

It was over but he didn’t feel any relief at the thought. The Doctor was deeply lost in thought, the chatter of the others barely registering. He turned and walked towards the only comfort he knew, the Tardis. As if on cue, he hears footsteps behind him. Clara. Of course. He tries to pull himself together. 

 

„Are you alright?“ 

 

The question rings in his ears and he finds it difficult to answer. Truth was, he didn’t know. He didn’t know who he was anymore. With a deep sigh, he let his head hang low and almost curses when his eyes fall onto Claras ripped blouse. She was bleeding. 

 

„What happened?“ He hadn’t heard his own voice sound like this before. Angry. Concerned.  

 

Clara looked down at herself, only now realizing her injury. 

 

„Oh, it’s nothing.“, she said, touching a hand to the wound. 

 

„Just a small cut. Happened while I was doing a clever thing. You should give me clearer instructions next time.“ 

 

She actually smiled at him. But he couldn’t breathe. She was hurt and he couldn’t breathe. 

 

„Clara…“, he began but there were more footsteps and suddenly gun girl was there.

 

„Doctor!“ He was out of sorts, this was all wrong. He was supposed to protect her, if he couldn’t do that, what kind of men was he?

 

_A mad man with a box…_

 

„Could you give us a minute?“ Clara nodded and stepped slowly inside the Tardis, smiling at Journey. The Doctor couldn't find it in himself to return the gesture.

 

Once they were alone, gun girl stepped forward, brave and certain. 

 

„Take me with you.“ 

 

So sure of herself, it almost sounded like a command. 

 

„You were supposed to look after her.“

 

„What?“

 

„I left her in your care.“

 

„Clara? But she’s fine…“

 

„She’s injured.“

 

„I just saw her! What do you mean?“

 

He had to breathe. Well, he didn’t, technically, but that wasn’t the point. 

 

„I mean that it was your job to make sure that she’s alright. And you failed.“

 

She seems angry, sullen almost. 

 

„So that’s a no then?“ 

 

He looks down. He’s not in the right mindset to do any of this. 

 

„I think you’re probably nice. Underneath it all, I think you’re kind… and you’re definitely brave. I just wish you hadn’t been a soldier.“

 

That’s all he leaves her with. She seems crestfallen but the Doctor can’t look at her. Instead, he turns and strides into his Tardis. 

 

———————— 

 

Well, that shirt is ruined. Damn, she’d liked that one. Good thing she had some spare clothes in the Tardis. Clara still couldn’t believe that she actually managed to get a battle scar, a triumph at last. The wound was already covered with 3 hello kitty plasters. Talk about being a school teacher. 

 

The Doctor was in the console room. She knew something was up, he’d been acting strange, well, stranger then usual. And silence was never a good sign. 

 

„How do I look?“

 

He glanced at her. Small victories. 

 

„Sort of short and roundish - but with a good personality, which is the main thing.“

 

„Ha ha. I meant my clothes. I just changed, since I managed to ruin the other shirt I was wearing. Damn tunnels…can we pick something else to get stuck in next time? Something with a bit more space and a little less Dalek?“

 

He smiles down at the levers but it's barely reaching his eyes. Clara frowns. 

 

„I’m alright, you know.“, she says, stepping forward. „It was nothing.“

 

He looks up at this as if to say something, but stops himself before the words can tumble out of his mouth. Instead, he simply nods. 

 

„When will I see you again?“

 

„Oh, soon, I expect. Or later. One of those.“

 

She was sad. That was all she knew. She was sad, because something was wrong and she couldn’t read him anymore. Standing at the door, Clara paused. 

 

„I don’t know.“

 

„I’m sorry?“ 

 

„You asked me if you were a good men. And the answer is, I don’t know. But I think you try to be. And I think that’s probably the point.“

 

He doesn’t speak for a moment and she's worried she might have offended him. But then, a smile, his smile, so genuine and bright that Clara gets thrown off track for a moment. She holds on to the door. 

 

„I think you’re probably an amazing teacher.“

 

For some reason, Clara can’t look away. She hasn’t seen him like this before. He was so lost in his thoughts but there he is again, hands in his pockets, a compliment he hadn’t meant to give and his smile, so boyish, so young, so like him. How much she still had to learn about the Doctor. 

 

„I think I better be.“ 

 

She forced herself to move her feet and finally, close the boor behind her. Clara feels as if he might be looking after her. Silly thought really, why would he do that? She shakes her head, her hand briefly touching the cut on her hip, the feel of the plasters reassuring and amusing her. 

 

As she steps into the hallway, she runs straight into Danny. 

 

„Oh, hey.“ 

 

„Hey!“ He frowns at her. „Have you changed your clothes?“

 

„Yes, yes, I have. Well noticed.“ Should she elaborate? Probably not. 

 

Danny seems perplexed, nervous. 

 

„You really wanna go to Cathys thing with me tonight?“ 

 

„Yeah, told you I’d give you a lift, didn’t I?“ Had he changed his mind?

 

„Alright.“

 

„Don’t worry, everyone’s really friendly.“

 

„I’m sure they are.“ He was still fidgety. „I just thought you might have a rule.“

 

„A rule?“ 

 

„Against soldiers.“ 

 

Clara laughed. „Don’t be ridiculous. Of course not.“ Danny lit up. He said his goodbye and walked on into another classroom while Clara continued down the corridor.

 

„Nope, not me.“ Her smile faltered slightly. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it folks. I can't believe I finished another installment in the whouffaldi chronicles. Time for the next story! ^^Thanks so much for sticking with me and for commenting. <3


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